


Psi-Ops

by Captain Natasha Riker-Troi (textsfrompicard)



Series: Voyages of the Starship Titan [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Titan
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Gen, Imzadi (Star Trek), Psionics, So Married, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23849071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/textsfrompicard/pseuds/Captain%20Natasha%20Riker-Troi
Summary: February 2380: The Titan has discovered an alien race called the Ih’ah. Their tradition for solidifying a diplomatic connection with other tribes is for each to send a diplomatic representative to a private one-on-one meeting to discuss points of import and to bring their leaders a recommendation for further diplomatic relations. As Titan’s chief diplomatic officer, Troi is the Federation’s representative. Due to the Ih’ah’s ability to sense electromagnetic radiation, it will not be possible for Titan to monitor their conversation through an open comm link, or for Troi to give periodic updates via combadge. Therefore, she will have to update them telepathically through her mental link with Riker. However, she and Riker are still in newlywed mode, and despite their mutual resolve to behave in a strictly professional manner while on duty, their raging lovebird hormones cause the odd bit of mind-flirting to slip out on occasion, and in this case at the worst possible time. After a particularly amusing slip-up, hilarity ensues as Troi desperately tries to keep her wires uncrossed and salvage diplomatic relations with the Ih’ah, fending off her counterpart's advances while being careful not to reveal her psionic abilities.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Series: Voyages of the Starship Titan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718563
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

"They call themselves the Ih'ah," Commander Deanna Troi said, emphasizing the first syllable. Titan was approaching the Hobeshan system, which they had been observing from a distance for the past week after detecting subspace signals emanating from the fourth planet. This was to be Titan’s first ‘first contact’, and excitement and anticipation were running high throughout the entire crew. Their emotions pervaded Deanna’s senses, amplifying her own enthusiasm as she continued the briefing. “The planet is called Alreon, a rocky and mineral-rich world. Their government is a representative democracy, with the entire planet being ruled by an elected body known as the Council of Alreon, which is itself led by a Chief Elder, chosen by the people from among the members of the Council. Long ago the Ih’ah were a warlike race, but a series of devastating wars led them to change their ways. They developed a strict moral code in order to keep their aggressive tendencies in check. This is particularly evident in their diplomatic protocols: when Alreon was still made up of several competing nation-states, the manner in which they conducted diplomatic relations with one another consisted of each nation-state sending a lone representative to a private one-on-one meeting to discuss relevant issues and then to bring to their leaders a recommendation for further diplomatic relations. Since this will be the Ih’ah’s first alien contact, it is likely that they will try to utilize this ancient protocol in their dealings with us.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t send down an entire away team?” asked Captain William Riker, frowning. Since his wife was Titan’s chief diplomatic officer, she would likely insist that she act as the Federation’s representative in such an event. It was her job, of course, and she was the best in the business, he reflected with no small amount of pride. But Riker didn’t like the thought of sending his new bride into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation by herself, especially after hearing the phrase “aggressive tendencies”.

 _Really_ , Imzadi, _you worry too much._

Riker smiled involuntarily at hearing his wife’s voice in his head. They had shared this connection since their first meeting on Betazed many years ago, but since they got back together about four years previously the connection has been reestablished and strengthened. Since getting married a few months ago, he was constantly aware of her presence in his mind, a steady, ephemeral thread binding them together. He didn’t know now what had ever made him think he could live without the comfort of that presence.

“I would advise very strongly against that,” said Lieutenant Commander Ranul Keru, responding to Riker’s question. “This is a first contact situation, and while I know we’re all excited about that, my job as security chief is to ensure the crew’s safety. I couldn’t guarantee the safety of any individual who went down their alone.”

“But, it won’t be necessary, at least not at first, right?” said executive officer Commander Christine Vale. “Deanna said that this protocol was ‘ancient’ so they don’t even use it anymore. They may not even decide to use it.”

“Exactly,” said Troi. “This will proceed just like a typical first contact; we’ll introduce ourselves, say we come in peace, et cetera, and then we’ll follow the Ih’ah’s lead on how to proceed. So there’s really no need for any unnecessary worry.” She focused her gaze on Riker as she spoke the last sentence, an exasperated yet loving smile lingering at the corners of her mouth.

 _Alright_ , Imzadi, _you’ve made your point._ Riker returned her smile, then mentally reminded himself that he was on duty. “Okay then,” Riker said, standing up and pulling down in his uniform jacket, a habit he had picked up from his former commanding officer, Captain Jean-Luc Picard. “Briefing dismissed.” He looked around at his command crew, their faces mirroring the anticipation and excitement he felt. “Let’s go say hello.”

******************************

“This memorial was erected after the end of the last Great War, over five hundred years ago,” said Chief Elder Raiukam as he led Titan’s away team, consisting of Riker, Troi, Vale, and Keru, on a tour of the capital city of Kinore. “The shape of the _kirana_ bird, with its wings fully extended in flight, was chosen as a symbol of hope and renewal to our people. It has provided us with much inspiration throughout the development of our space program.”

“It’s beautiful,” Troi said, her gaze following the sculpture’s elegant, graceful curves. She found this sight much more appealing than that of the Chief Elder. After nearly two decades of Starfleet service, she had met innumerable alien races possessed with everything from godlike beauty to downright hideousness. This particular race definitely fell toward the latter end of the spectrum, and while she normally did not allow herself to be overly affected by human notions of objective beauty, she found herself somewhat unnerved by the rather monstrous appearance of the Ih’ah. 

They were humanoid, with the outward appearance of an upright ankylosaurus and relatively underdeveloped limbs. They had rough, gravelly voices which nevertheless had an oddly melodic quality that she couldn’t quite place, like a half-remembered song. Their possible eye colors consisted of a range of metallic hues, and their pupils were vertical, snakelike slits. When one made direct eye contact with them one felt a vaguely calm, relaxed sensation with a hint of dislocation, like one might feel after a particularly potent glass of synthehol. Their teeth were sharp, and their tongues forked.

She knew perfectly well that her initial reaction to the Ih'ah's appearance was involuntary, a subconscious result of the trauma she had suffered at the telepathic hands of Shinzon and his viceroy. In time she would cease to flinch at the sight of any Reman-like appearance, but in the meantime she comforted herself with the fact that the Ih’ah were a perfectly pleasant, downright friendly race, and crime of any sort in their society had been unheard of for hundreds of years. And they didn’t even posses any psionic abilities. There was certainly no chance of a repeat incident here. No chance at all.

_Imzadi?_

Will’s mind brushed against hers, leaving an impression of concern. Beneath the concern was an undercurrent of frustration and guilt. Deanna knew Will was particularly aggrieved by the fact that her assault had taken place “on his watch” so to speak, although there had been absolutely nothing he could have done to prevent it. This too rankled him, especially since it was not the first time his image had been used to attack Deanna; back on the Enterprise-D, a mind-probing Ullian historian named Jev had hijacked one of Deanna’s memories of Will and telepathically assaulted her. While neither incident was Will’s fault, and Deanna continued to have nothing but complete faith in and love for him, he nevertheless felt a certain level of responsibility, which in part contributed to his overprotective tendencies. Deanna found them either endearing or frustrating depending on whether or not she was in the mood to be coddled. Right now she was very much the latter.

 _I’m fine,_ she sent irritably. _You don’t need to watch over me all the time._

_I know I don’t need to, but I want to. I love you and I want you to be safe and happy. You know that, don’t you?_

Her frustration evaporated, replaced by a warm, suffusive glow. What was she complaining about? Having a husband who cared for her, wanted to protect her, and loved her with almost overwhelming passion?

_I know,_ Imzadi. _I didn’t mean to snap at you. I love you too._

They both reached out with their minds, each ensnaring the other in a psionic embrance. Their hands reached out and clasped briefly, before anyone could notice. They might be madly in love, but they were still Starfleet officers and had an obligation to comport themselves with professionalism and dignity while in public. There would be plenty of time for intimacy later, both mental and physical.

“I hope you have enjoyed our fair city,” Raiukam said, bringing Troi’s mind back to the present. “Later on I would be most interested in seeing your ship, after the Council has had time to deliberate. We have never met an alien race before, never mind an alien civilization as widespread and diverse as you have described. We need time to decide upon our next course of action.”

“We understand completely,” said Riker. “Our most important policy is never to interfere in an alien society. When we initiate these contacts, how we proceed is entirely up to the race we’re contacting. We would obviously prefer to open diplomatic relations between our peoples, but we will respect your wishes.”

Raiukam tilted his head to the left and thumped his tail on the ground once, the approximate Ih’ah equivalent of a grateful nod. “We appreciate your forthrightness in this matter, Captain Riker. We are certainly interested in getting to know your Federation better, but first we must decide what protocols to use when dealing with alien beings. We must have a set of rules for how to proceed, otherwise there is the chance for chaos and bloodshed, just as it was on Alreon many years ago.”

Riker nodded. “We will remain in orbit. You can contact us when you’ve reached a decision.” He and the rest of the away team stepped back as he tapped his combadge. “Riker to Titan. Four to beam up.” The away team dissolved into four glittering pillars of light, then faded to nothing, leaving Raiukam and his council to their deliberations.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Vale to Riker.”_

Riker froze in the middle of the action he was taking. Beneath him, Deanna sighed in frustration. _It seems like we can’t ever get a moment’s peace around here._

Riker shared the sentiment. _That’s what we get for trying to do this in the middle of the day._ He kissed her one last time, then sat up and reached for his combadge. He tapped it once, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. “Riker here.”

 _“Sorry to interrupt, sir,”_ Vale said (was he imagining the smirk in her voice?), _“but I thought you and Commander Troi would want to hear what the Council decided.”_

“Yes?” Riker stood up and bent down to pick up his uniform. Deanna sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, enjoying the view for a moment before resignedly searching the bedroom floor for her own uniform.

 _“They are interested in further diplomatic relations with us, but they feel that more research is necessary,”_ continued Vale as Riker and Troi got dressed. _“For that reason, they’ve decided to employ that one-on-one closed-door diplomatic meeting Troi mentioned before. They’ve provided coordinates for us to beam down our representative at 0900 local time tomorrow.”_

“How long do they anticipate this meeting lasting?” asked Troi.

 _“As long as is necessary, apparently,”_ Vale said. _“Historically they’ve been known to last anywhere between a day and a month. They can’t provide a more accurate estimate since they’ve never encountered anything like this- like us before. And there’s more: closed doors evidently includes closed comm channels. We’re not allowed any contact with our representative while they’re in this meeting, and neither are they with theirs. I don’t have to tell you how Keru feels about this.”_

“This is how their ancient diplomats were able to arrive at an accord, by working in sequestration towards a mutual agreement, without any influence from their respective political leaders” Troi interjected, preempting her husband’s objections. “This is their world, and we have to respect their traditions. As chief diplomatic officer, this clearly falls within my bailiwick.”

Riker briefly wracked his mind for a non-personal reason to object to this, and failed miserably. “Okay then,” he said. “But we need some way of monitoring your conversation. I’m not letting any member of my crew go down there alone. I’m not being overprotective,” he added as Troi opened her mouth to object. “Keru said the same thing at the briefing yesterday. I’m just trying to be a responsible captain.”

Troi smiled. “Point taken,” she said. “But I don’t think there’s any way of accomplishing that without tipping off the Ih’ah, and if we violate their customs there’s no telling how they’ll react. They might simply banish us from the planet, or they could even declare war on us.”

“In other words, just like any other first contact.” They shared a knowing smirk, then Riker grew serious. “Vale, have the senior staff assemble in the main briefing room in fifteen minutes. We’re going to figure out a way around the Ih’ah’s closed-door rule.”

 _“Acknowledged,”_ Vale said. _“Vale out.”_

******************************

“What about just keeping an open comm channel through her combadge?” Keru asked.

“No good,” said Lieutenant Commander Melora Pazlar, junior science officer. “The Ih’ah can sense electromagnetic radiation. It’s a side effect of their brain structure.”

“Perhaps we could simply utilize a wavelength they are unable to monitor,” suggested Commander Tuvok, tactical officer.

“Won’t work,” said the chief engineer, Commander Xin Ra-Havreii. “Besides the range of wavelengths they are able to sense naturally, they will be monitoring just about every other wavelength via technological means. A few hundred years ago, we might have been able to pull it off, but they’re technologically advanced enough to not have to use the honor system anymore. We won’t even have the opportunity to circumvent their requirements.”

“Couldn’t we just keep a transporter lock on Commander Troi at all times?” inquired the CMO, Dr. Shenti Yisec Eres Ree. “I could monitor her lifesigns through a subdermal medical transponder and beam her up at the first sign of distress. Or if keeping a continous transporter lock is not feasible, I could program the transponder to beam her up automatically if—.”

“We can’t use a transponder for the same reason we can’t use a combadge,” Troi interrupted, starting to get a little exasperated. “Besides, there’s absolutely no evidence that this level of caution is even necessary. I sensed no hostility from any of the Ih’ah when I was on the surface earlier.”

“Well, we need to come up with something,” Riker said. “ The Ih’ah are expecting our representative tomorrow morning. They won’t talk to us any other way.”

Troi glanced sideways at him. _I think you may need to make a leap of faith,_ Imzadi. _If we don’t trust them, how can we expect them to trust us?_

 _It’s not that I don’t trust them,_ argued Riker. _I just don’t think it’s a good idea to—_

“Um… sirs?” said Commander Vale. “Are you still with us?”

Riker and Troi looked around, startled, then settled their gazes on Vale, who was looking at them puzzledly. “We are, sorry,” said Troi sheepishly. “We were just—.” She stopped abruptly and her eyes grew wide. “Having an idea,” she said slowly.

“What are you talking about?” Riker asked, confused.

“I’m talking about _this_ ,” Troi said, gesturing rapidly back and forth between her and her _Imzadi_. “We have this connection,” she explained to the others, “that sometimes allows us to communicate telepathically. The Ih’ah have absolutely no conception of telepathy. They won’t have any way of monitoring telepathic transmissions, nor would it even occur to them to do so. I think we might have found our solution.”

“I thought that was affected by distance, though,” said Vale. “Will you guys still be able to communicate with each other when one of you is still in orbit?”

“Not verbally, no,” said Riker. “Which is why we’ll need to come up with some reason for me to be on the surface while this meeting is going on.”

“They did say we were welcome to visit some of their museums, so long as we did not interact with the general populace until the diplomatic meeting was over,” said Keru. “The captain could be part of a small detachment sent to one of the museums in the capital. The coordinates for the meeting are in the same area, so it should be close enough, right?”

“Yes, it would,” Troi said, pleased that the question had been resolved. “So long as no one else in the immediate area is having any emotional crises, but I don’t anticipate that happening. The Ih’ah are a very level-headed people.”

“So it’s settled then,” Riker said, relieved. “Vale, hail the Council and tell them that a few of us will take them up on their offer of a museum tour. Also, see if we can arrange to have sleeping quarters in the city, so I— we can remain close by. If there are no further questions…?”

There were none, so Riker dismissed the rest of the senior staff. Only Troi remained, her arms folded across her chest. She wore an expression of false disapproval. _I’d accuse you of being overprotective again, but there’s something exciting about this._ She came closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, smiling slightly. _Almost like a lovers’ tryst._

 _We certainly had plenty of those back in our day, didn’t we,_ Imzadi? Riker smiled wistfully and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

 _Back in_ our _day? Really? It wasn’t_ that _long ago,_ Imzadi.

 _It doesn’t feel that way,_ agreed Riker. _But we’ve known each other for twenty years_ , Imzadi. _We’re like an old married couple already._

Deanna laughed out loud. “Newlyweds _and_ an old married couple? How many couples can say that?”

“I don’t imagine there are many,” said Riker, grinning. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “But that’s what makes us so special. Sometimes I could kick myself for ever being stupid enough to let you go, and for wasting so much time being ‘just friends’ with you when all along I really wanted so much more. But then again, the relationship we’ve cultivated over the years… I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Rather than try to find the words, Troi looked up and kissed him, then took him by the hand and led him back to their quarters.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Troi beamed down to Alreon for her meeting with her Ih’ahn counterpart. She found herself in a spacious, cathedral-like hall, with large multicolored stained-glass panels on all sides depicting scenes from Alreon’s storied history. Bisecting the room lengthwise was a long, rectangular wooden table lined with high-backed wooden chairs. About fifteen feet in front of her stood the diplomatic representative of the Ih’ah. His manner was friendly and gregarious as he strode forward to greet her.

“Commander Deanna Troi!” He folded his arms in an X-shape across his chest, laying his hands flat upon his shoulders, and bobbed his head in the traditional Ih’ahn greeting, then held out his hand for Troi to shake. “I am the newly appointed Chief Diplomat Lungor. It is quite an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Troi returned the Ih’ahn greeting, then smiled as she grasped Lungor’s outstretched hand. He seemed a personable and outgoing sort, and as she extended her empathic senses she detected only an open curiosity with a hint of wonder. The Ih’ah had obviously never had any need for a diplomat of any sort since the planet was united, so Lungor had been chosen by the Council as Alreon’s first diplomatic representative to other worlds. He was a historian by training, and all his life he had never expected to put to practical use any of his knowledge of Alreon’s ancient diplomatic traditions. Now here he was being given an opportunity to forge a connection with not one but many alien races. His enthusiasm was palpable, and she appreciated it. Diplomacy was always easier when all parties were willing to participate.

“Shall we sit down?” Troi gestured to the table.

“Indeed.” Lungor pulled out a chair and sat down, and Troi did likewise, seating herself directly across from him. “I can’t tell you how excited I am about this meeting, Commander. I never imagined I would have this opportunity. To converse with beings from alien worlds, and to do so on behalf of my entire people… this is the sort of event I have only ever read about in historical texts. I never dreamed I would be able to experience it!”

Troi laughed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your enthusiasm,” she said. “Exploring the stars for a living, this kind of thing tends to become routine for us. Meeting beings like you helps renew my sense of wonder and reminds me why I joined Starfleet in the first place.”

“That is very gratifying to hear.” Lungor returned her smile. “I read the documents your Captain Riker provided to the council, and I have many questions about your Starfleet and your Federation. For instance, these references to something called the Khitomer Accords…”

******************************

Five hours later, they had covered a good portion of both Federation and Alreon history. Scattered on the table between them were numerous padds containing historical accounts of key events in the histories of both their peoples. “There is one thing I do not understand about this Prime Directive,” said Lungor. “If Captain Picard violated it by inadvertently revealing himself to the Mintakans, how does committing yet another violation solve the problem? Would it not simply confound it?”

“Leaving them alone would have resulted in even more damage to their society,” Troi explained. “By revealing our true nature, Captain Picard allowed the Mintakans to make informed decisions about how to proceed with their culture rather than giving in to superstition and fear, as they would have done had we left them alone after the initial accidental reveal. It may sound contradictory, but sometimes the Prime Directive needs to be bent a little in order to avoid breaking it.”

“I believe I understand,” said Lungor. “I find it fascinating that…”

Lungor continued speaking, but it was at this precise moment that Riker chose to make one of his periodic check-ins. He and a few other members of the senior staff had been amusing themselves at Alreon’s Museum of Natural History. There had rarely been a lull in Troi and Lungor’s lively conversation, so Riker had taken it upon himself to make periodic requests for updates, sometimes when she or Lungor was in the middle of a sentence, an effect Troi found rather distracting.

_How’s it going, Deanna?_

_It’s going very well, Will,_ she sent. _We’re making a lot of progress. Now hush, I don’t want to miss anything he’s saying._

_Is he really such an entertaining conversationalist?_ Riker teased. _I’m starting to get a little jealous._

Deanna sensed his playful tone and laughed internally, allowing a small smile to escape. _Well, he_ is _rather handsome,_ she sent, playing along. _And he’s a good listener._

_And that’s enough for you?_ Riker’s mental aura radiated amusement. _You wouldn’t give_ me _the time of day when we first met, and I had both of those qualities in abundance._

This time Deanna couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You’re really a piece of work, _Imzadi_. If you—.”

“ _Imzadi?_ ” Lungor asked, confused. “What does that mean? Your translator did not seem to render it into Ih’ahn.”

“What?” Troi looked at him, startled. _Did I say that out loud?_

_Say what?_

_Will—_

“ _Imzadi_ ,” Lungor repeated. “What does it mean?”

“I wasn’t— wait.” _Who was I trying to say that to?_ Deanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _Focus, Deanna! You can’t afford to slip up like it’s your first day of psi training. You’re on duty here and you have to remember that._

_Deanna? What are you talking about?_

_I wasn’t talking to you,_ Imzadi. “It’s a term of endearment,” she explained to Lungor, deciding to give only the bare minimum explanation to cover her inadvertent slip. “From my homeworld of Betazed.”

“Really?” Lungor was intrigued. He took a half step closer to Troi, his mouth set in a crooked half smile. He tilted his head to one side. “I’ll admit, I found your appearance rather peculiar at first— imagine a person having rounded teeth and pupils!— but now that we have spent some time together, I’m willing to entertain the notion. To ‘go boldly where no one has gone before’, as your people say.”

_Oh my god, he thinks I’m_ flirting _with him! And he’s flirting with me!_

_What did you just say?_

_Later,_ Imzadi! “Well, I usually try not to mix business with pleasure,” she said truthfully, backpedaling as quickly as she could. “If you’ll forgive and forget my little slip, then maybe we can proceed as—.”

“You misunderstand,” said Lungor. “Over the course of a meeting such as this, many issues may arise, and they must all be explored thoroughly- _all_ of them.” He bared his teeth in a beckoning smile.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god…_

_What?? Deanna, what the hell is happening??_

_For god’s sake,_ Imzadi, _not now! I’ll give you a full report later._ Deanna sighed and braced herself for what was sure to be a very long conversation. “It really wouldn’t be proper,” she said firmly. “I happen to be married, and my people believe firmly in practicing monogamy. Besides, the Titan will be leaving the system after this meeting is over, and so will I. So it’s not as though anything can really happen between us.”

“How unfortunate,” said Lungor, sounding crestfallen. “But none of that means we cannot enjoy each other’s company here and now, in a purely chaste manner, of course.” He paused and tilted his ears forward, the approximate Ih’ah equivalent of a raised eyebrow. “Of course, I can’t ask you to violate your marriage vows, but a little bit of flirting never harmed anyone. Additionally, if we get along well, it may bode well for further relations between our peoples. You do understand what I mean, don’t you?”

Deanna sighed internally and resigned herself to the inevitable. “Yes, I believe I do.” She forced herself to smile and inched closer to Lungor, twirling a strand of hair around her right index finger and batting her eyelashes coquettishly. “Now, I believe you had some questions about some of our previous first contacts…”

******************************

“So what happened was… I kind of... mixed up... what I was saying... to whom,” Troi muttered, looking down at her shoes. She was back aboard Titan now, after only one full day of negotiations. Lungor had requested a brief recess to discuss a few points of interest with the Council. This exception to the closed-door rule was granted due to the unusual circumstances of the alien contact. It also gave Troi an opportunity to explain to Will and the others the unexpected turn of events.

“What do you mean?” asked Riker.

“I accidentally called Lungor _Imzadi_ ,” she confessed.

Riker clutched his heart in mock horror. “I thought I was special to you, _Imzadi,_ ” he said, putting on a wounded expression.

“This isn’t funny, Will,” said Troi heatedly. “I had to explain to him what it meant, at least the surface meaning, and now he won’t stop flirting with me!”

“Wait, what does it mean?” asked Pazlar. “I mean, I get that it’s a term of endearment, but are you saying it has some special meaning beyond that?”

“It’s usually translated as ‘beloved’ or ‘dear one’,” explained Deanna. “But the deeper, more literal meaning, is ‘the first’.”

Ra-Havreii blinked. “Wait, first as in... sex?”

Pazlar sighed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes. “I wish you would keep your mind out of the gutter, Commander.”

“Actually, it means ‘first’ as in ‘first true, meaningful relationship’,” Deanna explained as Pazlar and Ra-Havreii gave each other the side-eye, “but in my case it—.” She stopped as she realized the next part of her sentence might escape the bounds of professional propriety, but seeing as she’d already begun the sentence she gave a mental shrug and proceeded anyway. “He actually _was_ my first time.”

After a moment of stunned silence, everyone let out a collective “awwwwww”, except for Vale, who wore a knowing smirk, having heard this story before. “And now you’re married? That has to be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Pazlar.

“Yes, it’s all very adorable,” said Riker, blushing slightly, “but what did you mean, he ‘won’t stop flirting with you?’”

Deanna reluctantly summarized the rest of her conversation with Lungor. “So now he insists on playing this game of verbal footsie with me, and he heavily implied that if I don’t cooperate they’ll refuse further diplomatic relations with us.”

“Well, that’s not so bad, right?” asked Keru. “I mean, he didn’t threaten you physically or anything like that, right?”

“Thankfully, no,” said Deanna. “But of all the things I’ve had to do in the name of diplomacy, this is by far the most egregious.” She started to pace back and forth, her tone growing increasingly more frustrated and her hands gesticulating wildly as she continued speaking. “I’m essentially being forced to flirt with someone against my will simply because I flirted with him accidentally. Of course, I could refuse to continue flirting, but then they’ll stop talking to us altogether, and I can’t even tell him the truth because then they’ll know we were violating the spirit if not the letter of their rules, and then they might do something worse than just kicking us off the planet.” She sighed wearily and laid her head down on the table. “Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have gone into a simpler field, like… oh I don’t know, theoretical quantum particle dynamics or something like that.”

Ra-Havreii blinked. “I’m… not sure that’s a real field,” he said.

“Who the _rapsalak_ cares,” Troi muttered into the table. “Half the things you engineers say sound made up anyway.”

Riker laughed in an effort to ease the tension. “Well, listen.” He came over and rested a hand on Troi’s shoulder. “The part of me that’s your husband wants to spirit you away from this planet at maximum warp, but the part of me that’s a Starfleet captain is obligated to see this first contact through to the end. The mission has to come first, but if he even so much as _threatens_ to threaten you, I’m pulling you out of there. I’m under no obligation to send my crew into any unnecessary danger. Somehow I think the Federation will survive if we don’t get along successfully with every single alien species we encounter out here.”

Troi privately agreed with her husband, but publicly she felt obligated to remind him to keep personal concerns out of his personnel decisions. “I don’t want you to pull the plug if I’m close to a resolution,” she said. “We still have a chance for successful diplomatic relations with these people.”

Riker nodded, appropriately chastised. “I’m aware of that. We’ll go back down there as soon as the Ih’ah signal us they’re ready to continue. I think that—.”

_“Bridge to Captain Riker.”_ Tuvok’s voice sounded from the overhead speakers.

Riker tapped his combadge. “Riker here.”

_“The Council has hailed us and told us they are ready to resume negotiations,”_ said Tuvok. _“They also recommend that we take a tour of their Museum of Space Travel, as that will give us the best picture of the history of their society post-unification.”_

“Very well,” Riker said. “Inform the Council we’ll beam right down.”

_“Yes, sir. Bridge out.”_


	4. Chapter 4

Riker was growing increasingly frustrated. He, Keru, and Tuvok were in the Alreon Museum of Space Travel, ostensibly entertaining themselves while waiting for Troi and Lungor to conclude their meeting. Troi had expressly forbidden him from initiating mental check-ins during the meeting, arguing: “It’s already caused more trouble that it’s worth. Just let me handle things from now on.”

And so there he was, just pacing back and forth in front of some exhibit from Alreon’s early space travel era, waiting for Troi to fill him in on what was happening. Every time he reached out across their mental link to reassure himself of her continued well-being, he could vaguely sense her presence behind a mental wall, which Troi had erected in order to enable her to focus more exclusively on the verbal conversation she was having with Lungor. It galled him to think that he was required to leave his wife all alone with a near-stranger who had designs on her, although Troi had assured him Lungor did not intend to proceed beyond the verbal. It was enough to make one—

“Sir, I would advise you to stop pacing.” Riker blinked and looked around to see Tuvok standing to his right. “You are starting to attract unwanted attention.”

Riker sighed and came to a stop. “Sorry, Tuvok. It just frustrates me to be so helpless.”

“I understand,” said Tuvok. “If you are in need of a distraction, Mr. Keru believes he has discovered something of note.”

He led Riker over to another exhibit, where Keru was squatting in front of a trifold display. “Captain, come look at this.” Keru pointed to a photograph in the lower right-hand corner of the display. It featured a fairly beefy Ih’ahn female facing a smaller male, gazing at him imperiously. She was pointing at him with one stubby finger, and his head was bowed in contrition. Beneath the photo, the title and caption read:

 ** Sergeant Eyrak Compels Lieutenant Ateyok to Reveal His Duplicity **   
Eyrak discovered Ateyok was a spy for the nation of Konope, sent to sabotage Rumonerth’s space program. Her special gift enabled her to avert certain disaster and led to Konope making a variety of diplomatic concessions to Rumonerth, eventually leading to the absorption of the former nation by the latter.

Riker didn’t understand the significance. “Yeah, so?”

“So,” said Keru, “don’t you think there’s something a little odd about the way they phrased that?”

“Phrased what?”

“Her ‘special gift’,” said Keru, putting the words ‘special gift’ in air quotes. “They’re making it sound like she has some supernatural ability or something.”

Riker frowned. “I think you’re reading too much into this.”

“I thought so as well, initially,” said Tuvok. “However, upon closer observation I was reminded of how Chief Elder Raiukam greeted us when we first hailed the planet. There was a curious intensity to his questions, which I observed you were more than a little eager to answer.”

“Well, this _is_ a first contact,” Riker pointed out. “I think more than a little eagerness is warranted.”

“Perhaps. But if you recall,” Tuvok pressed, “after we first beamed down and met the Council members in person, Commander Troi described a sensation of dislocation and relaxation upon making direct eye contact with them, similar to the sensations produced by hypnotism. Additionally, I believe we all noted the peculiar melodic undertones to their voices, which were more pronounced when they were making inquiries of us.”

Riker didn’t like the direction this was taking. “You think these people actually have some sort of natural hypnotic ability?”

“It’s not unheard of,” Keru pointed out. “Didn’t the Enterprise-D encounter something like this before?”

Riker nodded. “The compulsive ability of the Ashkaarians. But how would we determine if the Ih’ah have a similar ability? We’re not allowed to talk to anyone except the other Council members.”

“Perhaps if one of us engages a Council member in conversation,” suggested Tuvok, “the others can observe and gauge what is occurring using a medical tricorder.”

“Why can’t we just ask them?” Keru argued.

“If they really are hypnotic, we don’t know the extent of their abilities,” Riker pointed out. “They could tell us their sun’s about to go nova and their moons are made of Swiss cheese, and we might buy it. No, there’s only one way to be sure of what’s going on. Cover me.” He strode casually over to a less crowded display in the far corner. Keru and Tuvok followed him, carefully positioning themselves so that Riker was not immediately visible to passersby. Thus positioned, Riker tapped his combadge. “Riker to Titan. Beam down two medical tricorders to about half a meter in front of my present position. We’ve got some detective work to do.”

**********************************

Meanwhile, in what Troi had come to think of as the ‘diplomacy chamber’, negotiations were proceeding apace. The verbal footsie game became just another part of the diplomatic jiu-jitsu in which she and Lungor were engaging, albeit an intrusive and irritating one. But Troi put up with it, mainly because things were going extremely well otherwise.

“You’ve made clear the benefits of Federation membership,” said Lungor, “but one thing concerns me. You’ve touted your ship as an example of the vast diversity to be found within the Federation, but it seems as though the rest of the Federation is much more human-centric. And even on your ship most of the command staff is either human or so humanoid as to be indistinguishable. How can we be sure that Alreon will be given equal consideration to other Federation member worlds in matters of import?”

“It’s true that humans founded Starfleet, and they played a vital role in the founding of the Federation,” Troi said. “But we have a long history of celebrating diversity in all its forms. We believe our differences bring us strength, and we derive great pleasure from them.” On the word _pleasure_ she gave him a disarming smile, her closest approximation of the one that always brought Riker to his knees. She couldn’t bring herself to look at another man that way, even in the name of diplomacy.

Suddenly she was aware of a persistent itch in the back of her mind. She bolstered her mental shields, but the itch refused to go away. It became increasingly more difficult to ignore, and Troi reluctantly concluded she would have to find a way to address it.

“Lungor,” she said, “why don’t you tell me again about the Treaty of Alreon?” This was the treaty that had officially united the planet’s disparate nations into one, and it was Lungor’s most favorite topic. Once he got started, he very likely would not stop talking for at least ten full minutes. That should give her more than enough time.

Having taken care of that, she lowered her mental shields in order to speak with her husband. _I thought I told you to stay out of this,_ Imzadi. _Something had better be on fire._

 _You could say that,_ sent Riker. _We’ve discovered something very interesting about the Ih’ah. They—_

“Deanna,” Lungor said suddenly, “what was the name of the human who was so instrumental in founding the Federation? The one you said was analogous to our Eyrak?”

_Oh— Jonathan Archer. He was the captain of the first Warp 5 ship, and—_

_Huh? What about Archer?_

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Troi said.

“Well, then who were you talking to?’ Lungor asked, confused.

Troi blinked. “Come again?”

“If you weren’t talking to me,” Lungor said slowly, “then who were you talking to?” He came closer to Troi until they were standing face-to-face, or as face-to-face as they could be when Lungor was a full foot and a half taller than her.

“Um…” Troi swallowed nervously. Lungor’s height at such close range was very intimidating, and it wasn’t as if she could’ve come up with a reasonable explanation for what had just happened even under the best of circumstances. “I was talking to myself,” she said lamely. “Sometimes I talk to myself out loud in order to—.”

“Don’t give me that _karpula_ ,” Lungor snapped. “Now who were you talking to, and how?” He straightened his posture and gazed directly into her eyes with a preternatural intensity. Troi felt vaguely uprooted, as if she were floating in deep water. A shroud descended upon her mind. Suddenly she felt strangely relaxed.

“Who were you talking to?” Lungor repeated. His voice was soft and soothing, almost like music. Troi felt utterly at ease. What had she been so concerned about? She would answer all his questions, and gladly. Anything to continue hearing that voice…

 _Imzadi!_ Riker’s mental tone grew more insistent. _Listen to me! The Ih’ah are hypnotic. We discovered it when we scanned the rest of the Council members. It seems to be concentrated almost exclusively in their ruling class. Lungor probably has it too. Imzadi?? Can you hear me?! Imzadi?!_

The fog lifted. Deanna blinked rapidly, disoriented. _What just happened?_

 _Lungor must have hypnotized you,_ Riker sent, relieved to hear from his wife. _We started finding references to a ‘special gift’ and ‘compulsion’ dating back to about six hundred years ago, shortly after a nuclear accident that devastated a large chunk of the northern continent, including the nation-state of Rumonerth. Over the course of the next hundred years, the Ih’ah slowly but surely started to exchange their swords for plowshares, so to speak, and Rumonerth lucked into a series of diplomatic victories that led to its absorbing the other nation-states. The first Council of Alreon was established and led by one of the very same soldiers who first displayed signs of this ‘special gift’, who by the way was a native of Rumonerth. The Treaty of Alreon was also instigated and signed by a few of these ‘special’ individuals, again all Rumonerth nationals. I don’t think that’s a coincidence, do you?_

“No,” said Troi, shaking her head slowly. “Neither do I.”

“Commander Troi!” Lungor said imperiously. “I demand an explanation for this erratic behavior. At once!”

This time, Troi was prepared for the hypnotic effect, and she was able to brush it aside with ease. Her disorientation was rapidly giving way to a righteous indignation.

“This explains everything!” Troi exclaimed. “A few key individuals in your society developed some sort of hypnotic ability six hundred years ago, and that’s how you were able to end your wars and unify your world! You’ve been lying to us, and not only that, you’ve been lying to your own people for centuries!”


	5. Chapter 5

Lungor just stood there and stared at Troi, flabbergasted. His first instinct was to deny her accusation, but her awareness of the truth would render her immune to his gift. He would have to be truthful, but he still required an answer to his question. “How did you figure it out?” he finally said.

“It was simple enough to see the pattern in your history,” Troi said, hoping Lungor had been caught enough off his guard for her to bluff her way past her psionic missteps. “The phrase ‘special gift’ is almost absent from your historical accounts up until shortly after a nuclear accident devastated the former nation-state of Rumonerth.” She picked up one of the padds on the table and brandished it in the air accusingly. “Every single individual referenced as having a ‘special gift’ was either a native of Rumonerth or a direct descendant, and these people had a disproportionate impact on the subsequent unification of the planet— an unusual fact considering the utter devastation that had been wrought upon their nation, which should have been severe enough to knock them out of commission for good.”

She crossed her arms and glared up at Lungor. “Your ancestors took advantage of their newfound talent to conquer the rest of the planet without firing a shot, and you and the rest of the Council continue to perpetuate this— this atrocity!”

“You misunderstand,” Lungor implored. “We cannot force anyone to do something they would not normally do. We can only encourange preexisting inclinations— such as, for example, to relieve their conscience by coming clean about a deception, like spying, or to not respond aggressively to a rival nation’s verbal posturing. Our ancestors saved countless lives by using their talents this way. You cannot shame us for doing what is best for our people.”

“What is best for your people,” Troi said icily, “is to have the right to choose their own futures, rather than being lulled into getting along.”

“That is your opinion,” said Lungor. “Besides, if we had been honest about the nature of our special gift from the beginning, it would never have worked. It depends largely on the hypnotized party believing thoroughly in his or her own free will, that he or she is not being influenced in any way. Otherwise a sort of resistance builds up in the person’s mind that impedes the gift. And one of my own ancestors discovered that using the gift too often on one person can result in them becoming desensitized to the effect, so that a gifted one has to expend more energy in order to have the same effect on the unsuspecting mind. So we do not in fact use this gift all the time, but only sparingly, when the Council as a whole deems it most vital in order to avert violence or disaster. So you see, we have done nothing wrong, Commander.” He paused and looked down upon her, frowning. “But _you_ may have.”

“I don’t understand,” Troi said, praying to the gods she really didn’t.

“Several times during our meeting you have appeared to be speaking to no one, and you also seem to suddenly lose focus in the middle of a sentence, or interject peculiar non sequiturs into the conversation. And there is one thing that has been bothering me for some time; when you called me _Imzadi_ , your comment also had the flavor of a non sequitur, although I was so distracted by the unfamiliar term to think too much about it. But you said it was a term of endearment, and you also have a husband; if you were in fact talking to someone else, the most likely ‘someone’ would be him.” He paused for a moment and began to pace slowly in a wide circle around Troi, who stood straight and unmoving, her gaze fixed upon a distant point across the room. “The only thing I cannot work out is how this could be. No transmissions of any kind have been detected entering or leaving this chamber, and yet you frequently appear to be communicating with someone else. So I ask you again: how could this be?”

Troi started to tell him it was none of his business, but then she realized that would only make her a hypocrite, considering what she was accusing Lungor and his colleagues of. She would have to come clean.

“My people, Betazoids, are telepathic,” she explained. “I’m only half Betazoid, so my abilities are mainly empathic; I’m not fully telepathic with anyone except my mother, and occasionally my husband. The bond we share sometimes enables us to communicate telepathically. He was concerned about leaving me alone here indefinitely without any way of communicating with me, so we decided to use our mental link to stay in touch.”

“And you accuse _us_ of deception!” Lungor exclaimed. “We welcomed you to our world in good faith, and you respond by engaging in espionage tactics. The Council will surely have a few things to say about this!”

He started towards the door, but Troi blocked his path. “And after you tell them, how will they respond?”

Lungor paused, considering. “Well, since this situation is so unique, and since they already granted one exception to our rules, they may consider the matter even and decline to proceed further. However, since you attempted to deceive us, they might decide to banish you and your crew from our world, and refuse further diplomatic overtures from your people. If they are sufficiently outraged…”

“What?” Troi demanded. “If they are sufficiently outraged, what?”

Lungor hesitated, then reluctantly admitted, “They obviously won’t want the public to know the full truth about our history. In order to ensure your silence…”

“Out with it,” said Troi firmly. “Just how far would they go to stay in power?”

Lungor looked straight at her. “The punishment for espionage in ancient times was execution. The death penalty is illegal on our world now, but there are too many of you for us to feasibly imprison. In any event, if all of you were on your ship, you would not be technically ‘on’ our world. We still have some massive artillery cannons that can reach orbit left over from our wars, maintained for posterity and to serve as a reminder of our violent past. They will probably tell your away team to leave our world, and once they are aboard your ship, it will be destroyed with all hands.”

Troi raised an eyebrow. “And what makes them think we will comply with this? You could try to hold me here, but I could warn my husband and have him beam me up and warp us out of this system before you’ve even finished telling the Council what transpired here.”

“That… is a good point.” Lungor admitted. “It seems we have a stalemate, then.” 

“So it would seem.”

They stared each other down, the clock ticking slowly by. The room was eerily silent.

“Well!” Lungor said finally. “What shall we do? I have an obligation to give the Council a full account of our meeting, but if I try, your people will be ready in the event the Council reacts badly. And yet I cannot let your deception go unpunished; our strict adherence to our laws has been essential to the continued preservation of our civilization. So how shall we proceed?”

Troi pondered the question. “It occurs to me,” she said at last, “that this can’t be the first time potentially incriminating information has been uncovered during a meeting such as this. Surely there must be a precedent of some sort.”

“Well,” Lungor said slowly, “there are some anecdotal accounts… bits and pieces which survived the pre-unification era. Uncorroborated tales of back-room deals and under-the-table compromises…” He smiled wryly. “Not even the Council knows everything that has ever transpired in our history. I’ve spent many a long hour sitting in libraries poring over ancient manuscripts, trying to piece together obscure snippets of dialogues between long-dead diplomats…” He smirked. “But then, I suppose if certain details were meant to be kept secret, they wouldn’t be easy to find, would they?”

“No, I don’t suppose they would,” agreed Troi. “So perhaps we can agree to keep mutual silence on this matter?”

“Perhaps. I would first like to have your assurance that you and your people will keep your silence regarding our hypontic ability,” said Lungor. “We have had peace on our world for many centuries. I do not wish to see it shattered.”

“Neither do I,” Troi said reluctantly. “The Prime Directive forbids us from interfering in your world in any event, and telling everyone about the nature of your ‘special gift’ would certainly qualify. But I implore you,” she beseeched him, “tell your people the truth. Let them choose their own future.”

“I will… consider it.” Lungor paused a moment, then held out his hand for Troi to shake. “This has been a most productive meeting, Commander. I look forward to many more interactions between your people and mine.”

Troi smiled and shook his hand. “So do I.”

******************************

“It was good of you to come to my rescue back there, _Imzadi_.” Deanna smiled and snuggled closer to her husband. They were in their quarters, finally enjoying some alone time after wrapping up their business on Alreon. Titan was heading away from the system now, towards the new and as yet unexplored. They should be looking forward to the missions ahead, but Deanna could sense Will was still preoccupied about the mission that had just concluded. She looked up at him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Riker hesitated. “Can we really trust Lungor to keep his knowledge of our mental link to himself? You said he felt he had an ‘obligation’ to tell the full truth. What if that obligation starts to weight too heavily on him?”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Troi said confidently. “At his core, he is still a diplomat, and he wants to avert war at all costs. The same instinct that prevents him from telling the truth about his and his peers’ hypnotic ability will prevent him from telling anyone about our bond.”

“I guess you’re right,” Riker reluctantly admitted. “Still, I don’t entirely trust him.”

Troi grinned mischievously. “Why not? Just because he knowingly tried to flirt with a married woman and indirectly threatened to blast Titan to smithereens?”

“Don’t mock my feelings, _Imzadi_ ,” Riker tried to pretend to scowl and failed miserably, a grin sweeping over his face equal to Troi’s own. “I’m still trying to forget that you flirted with him first. How could you do such a thing?”

Deanna gave up trying to be serious and laughed aloud. “You’re the one who wanted me to try to carry on two conversations at once.”

“Wasn’t that your idea?”

“Which I came up with at _your_ behest. So you see, everything is entirely your fault.”

Riker bowed his head in mock contrition. “Okay, I surrender.” They kissed tenderly, then Riker pulled away, his blue eyes twinkling. Deanna felt a wave of mischief emanate from him. “Do you know what day it will be tomorrow?”

Deanna was confused. “Thursday?”

Will grinned broadly. “Valentine’s Day! Which means that you and I will spend the day together on Lake Cataria—or at least a reasonable holographic facsimile. And there will be chocolate.”

Troi raised an eyebrow. “There had better be chocolate. That’s the whole purpose of the holiday.”

“What about the celebration of love and romance?”

“That’s just a ploy to sell more chocolate.”

“I thought you were a hopeless romantic.”

Troi smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek. “Not so hopeless anymore.”

Riker cupped her hand in one of his own and held it against his face. His other arm pulled her closer to him as he gave her a passionate kiss. “I always thought that phrase was kind of an oxymoron.”

Troi rested her head against his neck and gazed out the window, watching the light of countless stars go streaking past. In the days to come they would explore those stars and plumb the depths of space for their secrets, but for now she would bask in the warmth of Will’s love, which radiated out from him in empathic waves that caressed her senses and filled her with an overriding sense of joy and contentment. She could sense the same feelings reflected in Will’s psyche. They were utterly at peace with themselves and with the world.


End file.
